Blind Fury (7 page)

“But you don’t think Mr. Welsh could be physically dangerous?” Anna repeated.

The governor hesitated and then shrugged. “To be honest, I wouldn’t put anything past him, and as he has written to you personally, Detective Travis, he may have some kind of ulterior motive in requesting you to be here in person. I sincerely doubt that he could have any information regarding your inquiry, and I feel this could simply be a ploy to have you meet with him. You have to understand the lengths inmates go to to relieve the day-to-day boredom.”

He tugged at his right earlobe. “It’s rather like working with children at school, but the prisoners have no lessons, just twenty-four hours of every day to think up schemes and ways to create problems of every possible kind to aggravate the officers, themselves, and other inmates.”

“Because they have nothing else to do?” Barolli asked.

“That is partly the reason, or one could call it bloody-mindedness. We try at Barfield to lessen that aggravation in any way we can, because obviously, these are not children, and their ‘games’ can have severe repercussions. The prisoners held in the inner secure prison are specifically the ones we have found difficult to control, or who refuse to take any of the many productive courses we have on offer.”

“Does Welsh have any other visitors?” Barolli asked.

“No, he has never requested a visitor’s order.”

“In five years?” Anna asked, surprised.

“He has had no visitors,” the governor said quietly.

“What about other prison agencies? I know many people working in that capacity often become friendly with an inmate.”

“No, there is no one. He has made no friends with anyone from Social Services, male or female. He has obviously had the opportunity but has always refused to join in any of the interactive out-of-cell activities, even in the secure unit, which is a controlled environment.”

Anna asked if they could be given a list of inmates with whom Cameron Welsh had been locked up or had shared a cell.

“He has never shared a cell. He refused to ever be placed with another inmate, and he created major problems when placed on the sex offenders’ wing.”

“I know he’s earned a degree while he’s been here. Did he have a tutor or work within the educational department?”

“No. He earned his degree with the Open University.”

“But surely he would have had to be interviewed?”

“Apparently not.”

“So during his sentence, he has never been close to any other prisoner?” Anna needed a precise answer.

“He worked out in the gym, so he could have made contact with another prisoner, but that would have been some time ago. They do have a small gym in the secure unit that he uses daily.”

“What about the other inmates in the secure unit?”

“Well, obviously, he has to be in contact with them, and I can give you their names—they are a drug dealer, a Mafia-connected prisoner, and a terrorist. Although we have facilities in there for eight inmates, we currently have only four, which will enable you to interview him with the cells on either side unoccupied.”

Barolli asked for the other inmates’ records to ascertain if any of them could have contacts involving their case. It took some time before both he and Anna were able to determine that all three had been held at Barfield before the women in question were murdered. This meant that whatever “information” Welsh claimed he had could not have been passed to him recently.

“How do the prison officers get along with him?” Anna asked next.

“Their job is to basically monitor rather than befriend, so they keep their distance, but at the same time they are trained to have awareness of their inmates. It is much harder in such close proximity, as you will see in the secure unit, which is small in comparison with all the amenities we have in the main prison compound. The officers selected have already proved to be dedicated and have spent time on the main prison wings beforehand.”

Hardwick stood up abruptly and gestured to the door, saying, “Right. As I have a busy schedule, I have arranged for two officers to walk you over to the secure unit. So you will see for yourselves how Mr. Welsh is today.”

Anna and Barolli were led into the main prison yard, passing the high-wired fences surrounding the exercise yard. There were numerous prisoners playing handball, while others smoked and chatted in groups, but all of them stopped what they were doing as the newcomers passed. There were a lot of wolf whistles and catcalls, especially at Anna, referring to her red hair.

“’Ere, Red, show us a smile!”

There were more abusive sexual shouts, but Anna kept facing front, not for a moment acknowledging the catcalls. Eventually, they approached a barred-gated walkway some distance from the exercise yard. The security cameras were positioned high up on the fence corridor as they came to a second barred gate, and after that was unlocked, they arrived at the prison within a prison.

The secure unit was a large square building with cameras trained on the main entrance. The two officers gave their names and the names of Anna and Barolli before it clicked open. One officer walked in front of them, the other behind as he relocked the gate. They strode along a narrow windowless corridor before they entered the main area. This was surprisingly light, with large glass doors opening onto a small walled exercise yard. There was a room with high windows almost at ceiling level, and they were told that this was the inmates’ workroom. The open space contained a Ping-Pong table and a snooker table. Here the four guards sat around a small table reading the morning papers with mugs of tea, while a large television set attached to the wall was turned to Sky Sports. All stood to be introduced. Anna noticed that they were young, fit, and all about six feet tall.

The two accompanying officers left Anna and Barolli with the four guards, with instructions that as soon as the visitors were ready to go, they should contact the main gate. A fresh-faced blond officer who introduced himself as Ken Hudson offered tea or coffee and gestured toward a small, well-equipped kitchen. It amused Anna that he directed his conversation toward Barolli rather than to her, as he had confused the rank and was unaware that she was actually Paul’s superior.

“That’s where they can cook their meals if they want,” he was telling Barolli.

“If you don’t mind, we’d just like to talk with Cameron Welsh and not take up any more of your time than necessary,” Anna interrupted. She was keen to get started.

Hudson realized he had misjudged the situation and blushed. He told them that all the inmates were in their cells. “They’re not happy about it, but we felt it better that you have no interruptions. They’re all nosy sods and would have pestered the pair of you. Especially
you.
” He smiled at Anna, and it was her turn to blush.

“So the sooner we get through, the better,” she said stiffly.

“Okay—follow me. We have two aisles with the cells off them, and Cameron’s off the first one. We were instructed to keep the cells on either side empty, so there’s no other prisoner in aisle one.” The young man was protective of her, explaining that she would have no cause for concern, as he would be watching from the monitors.

“Thank you.” Anna smiled and then paused. “Can I just ask you about Welsh for a moment?”

“Sure.”

“How do you find him?”

Hudson shrugged. “He’s no trouble if he’s left alone; he doesn’t mix with the other blokes, and we hardly ever get a word out of him unless he’s complaining about something or other. He’s a fussy eater, and due to having cash sent in by his solicitor, he’s allowed to order his own food from the prison shop; mostly, it’s vegetarian. He even gets that sushi sent in, and he likes a lot of fruit drinks, but we have to always make sure the kitchen is clear, as he won’t cook in there unless it’s empty. The other blokes didn’t like it. To begin with, you know, they tried to start up conversations with him, play cards, whatever, but he wasn’t having any of it. He even works out in the yard alone; anyone else goes out there, he walks back in. If it’s sunny, he gets a chair and places it with his back to us and sits sunbathing for hours.”

“Does he watch television?”

“Yeah. Not in the main area, though; he’s got his own portable one, and he’s also got his computer, and gets sent in books every month. His cell is wall-to-wall books, but he won’t let any other guys read them, none of us, either. They’re mostly hardbacks. He’s got quite a selection.”

“What does he do all day—when he’s not sunbathing, that is?” Barolli asked, and Anna wished he didn’t sound so sarcastic.

“Reads or writes. He’s also particular about his laundry. They’re allowed to use their own sheets and bedlinen in here, and his are pristine Egyptian cotton. He also never uses the barber, but we sit and watch him cut his own hair; he’s particular about that, and it takes him forever. We also have his cell searched frequently. That includes checking his computer hard drive and making sure he’s not abusing the fact that he’s allowed to use one.”

“Does he get a lot of letters?” Anna asked.

“Yes. There’s lots of mail for him, mostly to do with his writing. He’s doing various courses and Open University stuff, as he’s intelligent, but . . .”

“But?” Anna prompted.

“He’s a weirdo—you know, his obsession with everything being perfect. I think he’s got that obsessive-compulsive thing, as everything has to be lined up exactly to his liking in his cell, and he’s fussy about hygiene. He’d be in the showers five times a day if we allowed him, washing his hands all the time, scrubbing his nails, washing his hair twice a week, and he’s got God knows how many expensive shampoos and creams. If any of the inmates or us get a cold, he’s paranoid about coming anywhere near and has this face mask and uses Vicks up his nose to ward off catching germs.”

Hudson stopped at that point and asked them to wait. Again he directed his gaze to Anna and hesitated, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment. He bent down to speak softly. “I’d button your blouse to the neck, if I were you,” he advised her. “If he’s got some perverted reason for wanting you to visit, don’t allow him a second of satisfaction.”

She put her hand up to her blouse immediately. It wasn’t unbuttoned to reveal any hint of cleavage, but it was nevertheless showing off her slender neck. “Thank you,” she said.

“Let me go and tell him you’re here.”

Anna and Barolli were midway along aisle one. She quickly buttoned her blouse to the neck. Hudson walked past an empty cell and then stopped.

“Cameron, you’ve got two visitors.”

They heard a murmur but could not detect what was said.

“No, two. Detective Sergeant Paul Barolli and a Detective Inspector Anna Travis are here.”

Again they heard a murmur, and Hudson looked back at them and then back at the cell.

“Well, you’ve got two. If you refuse to see them, then you’d better tell me now, as I’ll have to take them back to the main prison.”

Hudson listened for a moment, then came to rejoin Anna and Barolli. “He said he only agreed to talk to Detective Travis, and he doesn’t want to meet you.” He nodded to Barolli.

“Tell him we’re leaving, then,” Barolli said. Hudson nodded and made to return to the cell, when they saw a hand with a small round mirror positioned outside the cell bars.

“He’s checking you out,” Hudson said quietly.

“Please tell him we don’t have time for games. We’re leaving.”

Hudson walked back to Cameron but said nothing as the hand was withdrawn. Again there was a low murmur.

Hudson walked into the cell beside Cameron’s, took out a chair, then went into the cell on the other side and took out a second chair. He placed them both in front of Cameron’s bars and gestured for Anna and Barolli to join him, saying he wanted Anna to sit on the right and Barolli on the left.

Anna kept her eyes down as she took her seat and Barolli sat in his.

“Okay, Cameron? You’ve got Detective Sergeant Barolli and . . .”

“Anna. Anna Travis,” she said, taking charge. “Good morning.”

Hudson left them, and Anna looked up and into the cell. Cameron was sitting on a similar chair facing forward, his legs crossed casually. She was shocked to see him, because he looked so refreshed and pristine. His dark hair was silky and cut to just above his shoulders, with a part in the middle. His face was tanned, and he looked to her even younger than when she had last seen him. His blue prison-issue shirt was pressed and his trousers creased, and he was wearing leather open-toed sandals.

“Good morning, Mr. Welsh,” Barolli said coldly.

Cameron pointedly ignored him as he stared at Anna, saying, “Well, well, you have grown up—and you are wearing your hair in a different style. It’s very flattering.”

She found it difficult to meet his eyes, but looking at a spot above his head, she began: “You said you had information—”

“Please, one moment, let me first offer you a drink. I have still or sparkling water: which would you prefer?”

“Neither, thank you.”

He didn’t address Barolli, turning his own chair a fraction so that he wouldn’t even have to see him. His cell, although small, was immaculate. The cot was made up in military fashion, the sheet folded over the blanket and his two pillows stacked. One wall of the cell had bookcases from floor to ceiling, mostly hardbacks, arranged by size. The opposite side of his cell contained a small computer desk with a laptop and printer; there were packs of A4 paper, notebooks, and envelopes all stacked in a neat order. Beneath the desk was a crate of bottled water and a box of biscuits, and a shelf high up on the wall contained pristine white towels. Lined up were various shampoos and creams, a brush and a comb, and shaving equipment.

The barred section had an interlocking mechanism that would move the gate sideways, leaving the cell open. It was a strange feeling sitting opposite him and looking into the immaculate cell, but Cameron appeared to be totally relaxed, leaning back in his chair.

“You wrote to me—” Anna began again, and again, he interrupted her.

“I did, and I have on three other occasions written to you, but I have never received a reply.”